I mislaid my crafting mojo for a few weeks, due to a particularly bad knitting day, which made me unravel all (Well, most) of the knitting work I’d done on my jumper, and ultimately gave me ‘crafter’s block’. Urgh.
We went on a little holiday at the beginning of this month, and had the most gloriously relaxing time on the coast in Norfolk. There were hardly any people, and the cottage we rented was so warm and cosy, I could knit away to my heart’s content without my fingers getting cold. I had big plans for that week. I was going to knit a set amount each night, and by the end of it, I should have had almost the back of my jumper created. And maybe even some granny squares for my blanket made! Sadly, the week did not turn out like that.
In the days before I went away, I had been furiously knitting away, and decided to average about 10 rows per day for the jumper. A do-able and not too scary number for me, knowing what a rubbish knitter I am. Also knowing that if I do too much it makes my wrist hurt. So, there I was, really proud to have got past the annoying ‘knit two purl two’ bit at the start, when I dropped a stitch. I could not, for the life of me, tell where that stitch had gone to, so I made the noble decision to add a stitch at the start of the next row and plough on. Rows and rows in, and it was looking good. A lovely neat selection of stocking stitch. A couple of hiccups hear and there where, somehow, a stitch was dropped but swiftly recovered, and progress was being made.
Then St David’s day happened. Mother and father were invited to stay, and somehow, my lovely knitting work was stopped dead in its stitchy tracks.
There is something about my mother that can ruin dreams. OK, so she started off being a help, as I’d got in a tangle and dropped a stitch a few rows back without noticing, so she kindly stepped in and fixed this issue. Here she is:
And I was happily knitting away, regaling her of my tales of knitting, when she whipped hers out and started power knitting at a million miles an hour. She laughed at my slow rate of knitting and basically destroyed my knitting joy bubble, and my knitting calm was gone. Good bye knitting mojo. Thanks Mum!
But she has form here. Mother was the second person who tried to teach me to knit and failed miserably. It was during that summer that I realised that she wanted to replace me with my brother’s (then) girlfriend. She learned to knit in a day, finished her scarf by the end of the summer holidays, and I was still concentrating really hard in the corner, holding my yarn super tight for fear of losing stitches. Mother stood around downing gin and wetting herself laughing. Pah!
I valiantly plodded on, but something had disrupted my calm knitting brain, and things started going wrong left right and centre. It got very bad and there were too many holes to continue with, so I gave in and untanlged the work. It was satisfying and soul destroying in equal measures, so I hid it in a bag under the bed when I got home.
I suppose it’s not really true that it gave me crafters block, the other thing that put a dampner on things was that I almost finished my pj bottoms, but I made them in a gigantosize (I don’t like tight pj’s)! They actually fit the boyfriend, but I don’t think he wants purple gingham pajamas. It’s OK though as I can reduce and rectify, but I also did something to my sewing machine and now I can’t get the tension right. I need a craft fairy godmother to come and put me right!
Or, I’ll just give myself a stern talking to.
And actually, it’s not quite as bad as I thought, as I have also made a toil of my pencil skirt, so I just need to figure out how to adjust it to make it fit.
Here’s the proof:
More on this later, once I figure out what to do with it.
So that’s it. ‘Loosing my craf-ligion (as in ‘Losing my religion’) part will follow shortly, with a ridiculous event that made me weep. Because I am so stupid sometimes.